


TFA Writing Prompts

by BronzeWool



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Circus, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Amnesia, Circus, Double Agents, Dubious Consent, Fairy Tale Parody, Gen, M/M, MMORPGs, Mech Preg, Mpreg, Prompt Fic, Rape, Role-Playing Game, Temporary Amnesia, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 15:50:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3452999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BronzeWool/pseuds/BronzeWool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of TFA prompts I did on tumblr that I felt like sharing with you :)<br/>Ch 1) Lugnut & Blitzwing (Amnesia)<br/>Ch 2) Prowl & Lockdown (Bounty Hunters)<br/>Ch 3) Bumblebee (Amnesia)<br/>Ch 4) Bumblebee (Traitor/Double Agent)<br/>Ch 5) Bumblebee x Wasp (Fairy Tale)<br/>Ch 6) Swindle x Megatron (Fairy Tale)<br/>Ch 7) Bumblebee x Shockwave (Spark Bonding)<br/>Ch 8) Jazz x Sentinel Prime (Mech Preg)<br/>Ch 9) Jetfire & Jetstorm (Circus)<br/>Ch 10) Blackarachnia, Lugnut, Blitzwing & Shockwave (Humanformers)<br/>Ch 11) Prowl (Zombies)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lugnut & Blitzwing (Amnesia)

He felt numb, weightless and lifeless. Drifting in and out ofunconsciousness. His memory banks were blank and his internal chronometer wasfrozen, unable to tell him how he ended up in this situation and how much timehad passed.

“ug…nu…”

Everything around him was too dark. Or was everything too bright? He couldn’t tell the difference anymore. Where was he exactly? He was becoming more aware of his surroundings and that he was lying on something hard but his joints felt too heavy to move at the moment.

"Lu…ut…"

He knew that voice. That fragmented voice with a noticeable accent to it. He tried to answer back but even his voice box required too much effort to operate.

“Lugnut…?”

Lugnut. What is a Lugnut? Was that his name? It sounded familiar to him. Wait, why couldn’t he remember his own designation? Why couldn’t he remember anything about himself?

“Mein Kamerad?”

He had to think. He had to stay calm sort out his processor. Ok, start from the beginning. His name was Lugnut, he was a demolitions specialist of some kind, and a gladiator before the…before what exactly?

“Oh, I know! Let’s draw a silly stuff all over his faceplate!”

A war. That’s right, they were at war with someone and he served as a lieutenant under a commander. No. No, that wasn’t right. Not a commander, maybe a captain? A general? A lord-

"Would you just wake up already?!"

Lugnut’s five optics flickered back online, his vision was covered with static, but he could just make out the angry red faceplate hovering over him. He shook his helm and the static cleared and he got a better look at the big chinned mech hovering over him. Running through his processor, trying to register the face, but his storage units were nearly all blank. He had no memory of this mech.

"Who?" he asked, surprised that he couldn’t recognize the sound of his own voice.

To his utter astonishment the face spun inside its own helmet and in its place was a black jack-o-lantern like face that grinned down at him with a crooked smile.

"Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty!" it laughed hysterically.

"What in the name of the Allspark?!" He cried out and scrambled back, putting as much distance between him and the demonic face as possible. “Who-What are you?”

The mech paused in consideration and the head spun once more, this time a long blue face gazed quizzically down at him through a cold monocle eye.

"Finally back online, I see," he mused softly. “Although your circuits appear to be a bit scrambled after what happened.”

“What did happen exactly?” he asked cautiously. This mech seemed to know him and was familiar enough to address him so leisurely, but Lugnut could not predict what the strange mech would do or say next.

The face spun and the hotheaded face returned with a vengeance and shouted “You and that primus forsaken punch!” he roared. “How many times do I have to tell? Warn me before you use the punch! You did more damaged to us than to those puny autobots!”

Punch?

Lugnut inspected his claws and was surprised to find that he indeed did have a wide range of weapons at his disposal. Were they in a fight? Was that why he couldn’t remember anything? Who were the Autobots and why were they fighting them in the first place?

“Was I in some sort of accident?”

The Icy face was now staring at him wearily, slowly piecing everything together.

“We should report back to Megatron,” he mused. Lugnut was clearly suffering from some sort of memory glitch, but until they scanned him over they couldn’t determine how severe the damage was.

“What is a Megatron?”

The mech froze and Lugnut waited to see if another face would pop out, but instead the mech didn’t seem to have a face to match his current emotion, so the blue face continued to gawk at him in disbelieve, until the head spun rapidly and the crazy one returned, laughing hysterically at the top of his lungs.

“Ahahahahahahahahaha. Now I know I’m crazy because not even with amnesia could you ever forgot, Lord Megatron! ,”

Lugnut had finally grown tired of this laughing moron. He stood up and stomped over the mech who was choking on his own vocal unit, doubled over as he continued that high pitched, processor-aching laugh.

“Enough!” He hurled the mech up by his wing joints so they were optic level.

The hothead face glared at him defiantly, spouting out curses and threats, but Lugnut chose to ignore them.

“I will not be made of fool of, especially for your own amusement, Blitzwing!”

The mech froze in his struggles and the icy face offered a genuine smile and said. “You remember my name.”

Lugnut blinked his giant optic. Yes, he remembered now, Blitzwing was the mech’s name and he was a triple-changer with multiple personality units.

“Yes,” he lowered his partner gently. “I am still missing key memory units, but I am slowly remembering a few things. I still do not know of these Autobots who attacked us, nor this Megatron you speak of.”

Blitzwing nodded in understanding and placed a comforting servo over the giant’s claw.

“We will get through this, one memory at a time, my friend. Come, let us return to base. The allspark fragment is lost to us anyway.”

Lugnut did not know what this allspark fragment was, but clearly it was not of importance at the moment.

“Yes, that is probably for the best.”

Blitzwing notified Megatron on his comlink that they were returning to base and turned to face his simpleminded companion. Where he promptly switched back to Hothead and whacked Lugnut around the helm.

“And the next time you pull a stunt without warning me, again, I’ll leave you for the Autobots to haul away in stasis cuffs!”

Lugnut lunged at the smaller mech, but the Random face dodged, transforming into his jet mode and took off into the sky, laughing as he said, “After, all, I’m supposed to be the one a few circuits short of a motherboard!”

Lugnut rolled his optic and transformed as well, taking off and flying after the swift jet. He was still unsure of his current predicament though. There were still too many memory banks he couldn’t access, and even though he knew a few things about himself, there was no guarantee all his memories would ever return.

Blitzwing leisurely rolled around the heavy aircraft, silently reassuring Lugnut that he was still here and guiding him home safely, and that small gesture comforted him.

He remembered Blitzwing, and for the moment that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow - Prowl & Lockdown (Bounty Hunters)


	2. Prowl & Lockdown (Bounty Hunters)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowl takes up Lockdown's on his offer back on Earth.

There were days when Prowl wished he never took Lockdown up on his offer. Days when he was alone in his room, staring out into space, wondering how things would have turned out it he never left Earth. How were his old teammates? Were they taking good care of Sari? Were they still collecting Allspark fragments? Were they still able to keep the Decepticons at bay with one less teammate to offer backup? Did they miss him? Did they hate him for what he did?

He sighed bitterly and glared at the stray asteroid field. He was a coward. He didn’t even have the courage to say a proper goodbye to his friends. Choosing instead to wait until nightfall, when everyone was in recharge, saying his silent goodbyes to Sari and the others, even going as far to leave Ratchet’s EMP generator, before disappearing into the night with Lockdown.

Prowl knew their relationship was unhealthy, but he just couldn’t help it, Lockdown had given him a taste of the thrill of the hunt, like the earth creatures did. The feeling of accomplishment to track, chase, and hunt down his prey. It filled him with adrenaline. The mods were worse, but in the best possible way. No matter how long his prey ran or fought back, taking their mods as his own, to claim his prize in the end was the best kind of addition. One he could never free himself from.

It had been weeks now since he left earth. Life with Lockdown was not unbearable, in many ways the bounty hunter offered better company on his cosy ship, than his loud teammates did, stranded on an alien planet, in a broken down car manufacturing factory. With Lockdown, Prowl had a ship that could take him anywhere across the galaxy, to hundreds of Cybertronian colonies, where he could get prop refuel and talk to a random stranger who wasn’t the size of his own servo.

It helped that Lockdown was a solitude creature as well. He knew when to give Prowl his privacy and when to push. They made a good team that way, sensing what the other needed without needing to exchange words. They became notorious, taking on bounties across galaxies, and splitting the profit 50/50.

After collecting enough credits, Prowl’s first purchase was to replace the small spacecraft Ratchet accidently blew up, when he first met Optimus and his team on that fateful asteroid, so he would always have an escape route. Lockdown never said anything about the ship, if anything he encouraged Prowl’s need to stay independent and have something to fall back on.

The two rarely ever argued, even over ownership of certain mods. No, the only time voices were raised was when it came to Prowl’s policy against killing, which counteracted with Lockdown’s willingness to do whatever the client paid them for. Yet, no matter how bad it got, Prowl never left. Not really. Sure, he would disappear for days at a time, but after letting off some steam he would always came back, and Lockdown would never turn him away or bring up their past arguments.

Maybe the reason Lockdown always welcomed him back was because he too understood the need for companionship. Drifting through the empty void of space did that to a mech.

”What ya thinking about?”

Prowl turned away from the window to face Lockdown. His partner had added more mods to his person since their first meeting back on Earth, much like Prowl himself. Did he even resemble his old self anymore?

”It doesn’t matter,” said Prowl. “I take it you got us a new bounty?”

Lockdown smirked and chucked a data pad for Prowl to catch. 

“Thought you’d might like this one,” he said. “Escape stockade prisoner, highly dangerous. Last seen in the Quartex System. Not too far from here, eight joors tops.”

“Wanted alive?” Prowl queried as he read through the document, and Lockdown resisted the urge to roll his optics.

“It’s the Elite Guard, so of course they want him brought back alive.”

Prowl nodded satisfactory and set the data pad down.

“Give me a moment to prepare myself,” he said, walking over to his trophy case. “I’ve been meaning to test out these nucleon shock gauntlets.”

This time Lockdown did roll his optics.

"Try not to take too long sprucing yourself up,” Lockodwn chuckled and left Prowl to his own devices. “Meet me in the cockpit when you’re done.”

Lockdown shut the door behind him and silently trudged back to his own room. It was the one room Prowl wasn’t allowed access to, and the ninja-bot seemed to have no problem respecting the other mech’s boundaries. Lockdown pressed a hidden switch on his own trophy case, opening a secret room. It was no bigger than a closet, but wide enough for Lockdown to easily slip into. Inside contained another trophy case, filled with mods too precious or too rare to ever use or sell. Among them was a helmet, his old master’s helmet, Yoketron.

Lockdown wasn’t a fool, he recognized Prowl’s moves the moment the mech first got the drop on him, and knew there was only one bot in the known universe who could have trained Prowl in the ways of the ninja. Lockdown made it clear from the beginning there was to be no secrets between them, but this was one secret Prowl could never discover.

It wouldn’t last forever though…

Prowl’s curiosity would get the better of him one day, and he’d eventually snoop his nose where it didn’t belong. It was inevitable and he knew it. Just like it was inevitable for Prowl to learn the Decepticons finally won the war. Megatron and his troops killed Prowl’s old teammates and transwarped themselves onto Cybertron, taking over from the inside.

Which opened a long list of questions. Would Prowl leave? Would Prowl blame him for his teammate’s deaths and try kill him in some form of misguided retribution? Would Lockdown bring himself to kill Prowl? He honestly hadn’t a clue. Months ago, the answer would have been yes, but now he wasn’t so sure. As much as he hated to admit, the kid had grown on him.

He let the helmet slip through his fingers and watched with indifference as it hit the floor and rolled out of sight.

There wasn’t any point in thinking about it, he concluded. Whatever confrontation would rise between the two of them, he would meet it head on, just as he always did. With a flick of a switch he closed the secret room and made his way to the cockpit, where Prowl eventually joined him.

”Ready, partner?” Prowl asked as he took the co-pilot seat.

“You know it, partner.” Lockdown grinned back.

For the moment, Lockdown would cherish what little time they had left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow - Bumblebee (Amnesia)


	3. Bumblebee (Amnesia)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After receiving a blow to the helm, Bumblebee now suffers from short-term memory loss and can't remembering anything that happened in the final battle.

“Prowl is offline.”

Bumblebee froze from where he sat at the other end of the table, staring at Bulkhead and Sari in bewilderment.

Prowl was offline? That was impossible, Bumblebee talked to Prowl last night before he went into recharge. He was fine.

“I don’t understand…”

Bulkhead sighed, as if they had the exact same conversation before.

“Back on Earth,” said Sari. “Megatron attacked Detroit with the Lugnut Supremes. Prowl and Jazz managed to collect as many Allspark fragments as they could, but it wasn’t enough.” She dropped her head. “Prowl made the ultimate sacrifice to save everyone.”

He felt numb. Nothing she said made any sense. This had to be a joke, some kind of twisted joke, payback for all the times he pulled pranks on everyone.

“This isn’t funny…”

“Bee, please try and remember,” begged Bulkhead. “Remember how we took down Shockwave and saved the protoforms and brought them to Cybertron. We’re finally home, Bee. We’ve been home for a long time now.”

This was a trick. Some kind of Decepticon ploy. That was it, he was still in the plant, wired to Soundwave’s machines, and everything around him was just a virtual simulation.

“You’re lying.” He shoved the chair aside, scrambling to his peds. “You’re not real. None of this is real!”

Bulkhead and Sari rose from their chairs, but the nurses were already making their way over. Bumblebee panicked and aimed his stingers at them, only his stingers were gone! He struggled as they grabbed him and screamed when one of the doctor’s touched the back of his helm, static running down his network system. He fell into recharge and the nurses carried him away.

“We warned you he might not be ready,” said Minerva, one of the nurses.

“It’s my fault,” said Bulkhead. “I should have lied when he asked about Prowl.”

 _Lying won’t help Bumblebee remember,_ thought Sari.

_She remembered back on Earth when Bumblebee woke up one morning and couldn’t remember anything about a battle they had the previous night, where he suffered a severe blow to the helm. Everyone shrugged it off as temporary memory loss, but when Bumblebee couldn’t remember anything for longer than a few minutes, they started to worry and had Ratchet perform a diagnostics scan._

_"Did you figure out what’s wrong with Bumblebee?" ask Optimus._

_"Unfortunately, yes." Ratchet sighed as he gazed down at the unconscious patient on the mediberth. “A full scan reveals that while Bumblebee’s processor wasn’t badly damaged in our last battle, a small part of his memory unit was.”_

_"What does that mean?" asked Sari as she glanced between the two._

_"To put it simply, Bumblebee remembers every aspect of his life up until the injury,” explained Ratchet. “The real problem is the part where his mind tries to save new memories. His processor is trying to store the data into his internal memory unit, but when it can’t, it deletes what it thinks is corrupted data, and makes room for the next memory, only to delete that as well.”_

_"But can you fix it?" prompted Optimus._

_Ratchet shook his head. “This is a very delicate process and I don’t even have access to half the tools I would need to attempt such a procedure.”_

_"If I didn’t waste the key’s power giving myself upgrades, we could fix Bee’s memories." Sari clenched her fists, feeling useless._

_Unable to do anything, the team continued as they were, keeping a close eye on Bumblebee, but otherwise going along with whatever he said or did. When they did finally return to Cybertron, Perceptor and his team did everything they could for Bumblebee, but even they couldn’t fix him without seriously damaging his mind. It was then, they reluctantly agreed to have Bumblebee instituted for his own safety, hoping his own systems would eventually heal the damage itself._

_It had been several months since he was taken away._

It was late at night and Bumblebee moaned as he woke up. He was resting on a berth that wasn’t his, inside a room that didn’t belong to him.

“Finally awake, I see?”

Bumblebee blinked and rolled onto his side, where sitting on the edge of the bed, was Prowl. At least it looked like Prowl, only he was now transparent and enveloped in a blue light.

“Prowl?” he moaned into the pillow. “Where are we?”

 _“You’re home,”_ the ninjas answered simply.

“This isn’t home,” Bumblebee groaned back. “This isn’t the plant.”

_“We’re back on Cybertron, Bumblebee. We won, Megatron is defeated.”_

“I don’t remember that. I don’t remember anything.” Bee hissed. “Where have you been? Why haven’t I seen you in a while?”

Prowl placed a servo on Bee’s back but the mech couldn’t feel it. _“I apologize, it took time for me to find my way back.”_

Bumblebee bit his lip and asked, “Prowl, is there something wrong with me?”

Prowl gazed down at him with sad optics and knelt besides the berth, resting his servos on either side of Bumblebee’s helm.

_“You’re going to be fine now, Bumblebee.”_

Bumblebee let out a sigh as a warm sensation washed through his circuits, clearing his thoughts. His optics felt heavy and he slumped against the bedding.

“You’re not gonna leave again, are you?” he asked as he fell into recharge.

_“I’m afraid so, but that doesn’t mean I’m not watching over you and the others.”_

He didn’t remember falling back asleep. Only waking up when the sunlight hit his optics. A red nurse knocked on his door and wished him a good morning.

“Good morning, Minerva.”

She froze and stared at Bumblebee in shock.

“Did you just-? Did you just remember my name?”

Bumblebee raised an optic ridge. “Yes, you told me yesterday your name was Minerva and you were taught by a doctor called, Fixit.”

She gasped and embraced him tightly. “This is excellent progress, I need to get the other doctors. Stay right here, ok.”

She all but ran out of the room and Bumblebee didn’t know why, but he found himself smiling. He couldn’t remember how he got to the hospital or why he was here, but he felt like things were going to be ok from now on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow - Bumblebee (Traitor/Double Agent)


	4. Bumblebee (Traitor/Double agent)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bumblebee finally confronts the real Decepticon spy, but not all goes exactly as he planned.

“Looking forward to when we land, _old pal?”_ asked Bumblebee. “I just bet Ultra Magnus is gonna _love_ seeing his, Ex-Head of Intel once he gets out of the hospital.”

Shockwave remained silent as Bumblebee continued to gloat. For the last few cycles, the young bot had been trying to get a response out the spy, but Shockwave would not give into the brat’s petty taunts. In fact, if it weren’t for the ominous light emitting from his single red optic, Bumblebee wouldn’t even have known he was online.

“Well, I better get back to the bridge, don’t wanna miss the party upstairs.” Bumblebee smirked, arms crossed behind his head. “Or maybe I’ll visit old rust bucket and see if he’s still licking his wounds after Boss-bot whooped his aft.”

Bumblebee snickered and sauntered away, feeling pretty good now that he caught the real Decepticon spy and got the last laugh.

“It’s funny, really.”

Bumblebee froze, thinking he was hearing things, but was surprised to turn around and find Shockwave’s staring directly at him.

“Oh, finally talking now are we?” he snickered. “Ok, I give, what’s so funny?”

The optic slowly blinked and Shockwave said, “It’s funny how I could have avoided all of this simply by not revealing myself to you when I did.”

_“Surely you recognize your all pal, Longarm.”_

Bumblebee shivered. He didn’t like thinking back to the battle that took place in Megatron’s lair. It was a reminder of his greatest failure. Where he had been played like a fool, tricked into sentencing an innocent bot to rust in the stockade, and humiliated in front of his own team by who he once thought of as a friend.

“Yeah, you totally screwed up back there, buddy,” Bumblebee forced himself to laugh as he walked back to the prisoner. “Bet old bucket-head isn’t too happy with his favourite pet at the moment.”

“Do you know why I’m the best at what I do, Bumblebee?” Shockwave asked nonchalant, as if he wasn’t currently stuck in stasis lock by the cuffs around his wrists. “It’s not because of my size changing abilities or my knack for hacking mainframes.”

He shook his helm.

“No, my little Bumblebee. While they are indeed quite valuable assets, the truth of the matter is, unlike certain other Decepticons I could mention, I never let anything get to me…except for you.”

That single optic flared and burnt into his processor, but Bumblebee didn’t back down. If anything he leaned in further just to prove how un-intimidated he was.

“I blackmailed and killed many Autobots to get where I was,” Shockwave continued. “Longarm, the young bot whose identity I stole. The previous Head of Intel, Highbrow, who _mysteriously vanished_ one day and was never seen or heard from again. I enjoyed extinguishing his spark, and took his post as Head of Intel not long after.

“And Blurr.” Bumblebee froze. They never did find out where Blurr ended up after he passed through the Space Bridge. “I worked with him for many stellar cycles. He was one of my best actually, yet I didn’t think twice about crushing his body into scrap metal.”

“You’re lying! No one knows what happened to B-”

“But you!”

Bumblebee staggered back. Shockwave got as close as he could, faceplates inches apart.

“You. An insignificant boot camp washout somehow got underneath my plating,” he hissed. “If I never revealed myself that day, If I didn’t feel the need to gloat, I wouldn’t have been forced to abandon my post and flee. If I had just offlined you the moment you carelessly confided in me about the identity of the spy, I could have saved myself a lot of trouble.”

He sighed, looking down at Bee with a half lidded optic, almost seeming disappointed in him.

“Yet, you were persistent, convinced that Wasp had to be the double agent, forcing me to take matters into my own servos. And I would have terminated you in that simulation combat exercise if that idiotic Bulkhead hadn’t intervened and ruined my plans.”

Bumblebee smiled slightly. Bulkhead always did have his back.

“At my wits end I set up Wasp just to grant your wish,” he purred. “And you bought it.”

“Shut up!” Bumblebee punched the barrier keeping them separated, but the mech didn’t so much as flinch. “You framed Wasp just to mess with my head, and then broke him out of the Stockade just to cover your own hide. You set us both up-“

“Don’t blame me!” Shockwave shouted back, silencing Bumblebee. “You may hate me for framing Wasp, but let’s not pretend for a single nano-klik that you actually cared about what happened to him. You were just bitter that you caught the wrong bot.”

Bumblebee opened his mouth to object but Shockwave pressed further.

“As uneducated as you are, even I’ll admit you have a smart processor and a keen optic. You could have figured me out quickly enough, but you didn’t want to see the truth, did you? No, you _wanted_ Wasp to be the traitor so badly, so I gave you exactly what you wanted. If anything you should be _thanking_ me. I took down the one mech you couldn’t stand, and got you a first-class ticket into the Elite Guard, but you threw it all away for that clumsy oath of a technician.”

“I said shut up!” Bumblebee pounded on the barrier. His vents whirled rapidly as he glared up at the traitor, who stared down at him smugly.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” he purred. “Deep down you’re no better than I am.”

“I don’t have to listen to this!” Bumblebee turned on his heels and stomped away. “When you’re wasting away in the stockade maybe I’ll drop by and see how high and mighty you are then.”

“And _when_ I get out of the stockade, Bumblebee, I will hunt you down and I will not rest until your spark is mine, crushed underneath my claws.” He laughed after him.

Bumblebee didn’t turn back. He left the holding cell and re-joined everyone on the bridge. If anyone noticed his discomfort they didn’t voice it. They were approaching Cybertron anyway and everyone was getting ready to land anyway. Bumblebee stood in place with Bulkhead, Ratchet and Jazz as they lifted Prowl’s body. Bumblebee forced himself not to make eye contact with Shockwave as the Decepticons were escorted out, but he could feel the heat of that stare in the back of his helm the entire time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tomorrow - Bumblebee (Fairytale)  
> Yes there were quite a few for Bumblebee, I apologize XD


	5. Bumblebee x Wasp (Fairy tale)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on Hans Christian Anderson's Thumbelina, here's a cute little fic I like to call, Bumblelina (Originally, I know).

Once upon a time there lived a retired old medic, named Ratchet. He lived alone in his quiet cottage, spending his days reading and tending to his garden. Ratchet was lonely though, as he had no bondmate or any sparklings of his own.

One day, a sickly femme knocked on his door, seeking help. Ratchet treated her and the femme was in debt to the medic for saving her life, but had no credits to offer him. Ratchet did not care about payment, but the femme had to give him something in exchange for his kindness. So, she offered him a small metallic seed, saying it wold grant any wish, as long as he cared for it.

Ratchet humoured the poor thing and graciously accept her gift. She left the next morning and Ratchet planted the seed in his garden. Remembering her words, Ratchet chuckled and made his wish.

To have a sparkling of his own.

He cared for the seed and watched it grow under his care, until one morning, as he was watering his garden, the little bud opened and blossomed into a beautiful golden flower, but it was what he found inside the flower that truly astonished him.

A tiny protoform, no bigger than the bumble-bots that pollinated his flowers. The minibot’s optics flickered online and smiled up at his sire. Ratchet brought the minbot into his home, making a tiny bed and some low-grade for energon for him. The minibot drank his fill and was lulled into recharge. The elderly medic leaned back in his chair and thought of the perfect name for his sparkling.

_Bumblelina._

For stellar-cycles Ratchet raised Bumblelina, making tiny armour for him, feeding him small drops of energon, and teaching him how to read and write. Bumblelina grew up into a beautiful yellow and black mech, with stingers that matched his name namesake. He tried to help his sire with the chores and gardening, but usually ended up making a mess.

One night, after Ratchet finished reading Bumblelina a bedtime story, he asked, “Sire, are there any stories about minibots?”

Ratchet blinked. In all honesty he didn’t know. “Not that I’m aware of, but I’m sure I could find one in the library for you. Why do you ask, little Bee?” Bumblelina sighed stared down at his blanket. "It’s just, I’ve never met another minibot before. Are there others or am I the only one?"

Ratchet didn’t have an answer for Bumblelina, but assured him he was well loved regardless, and wished him goodnight.

Bumblelina couldn’t sleep though. As much as he loved his sire, he needed someone his own size. Determined to find other minibots, Bumblelina snuck out of the house and disappeared into the garden. He made it to fence, when he spotted something on the other side.

Standing on a rock was a green version of himself, only his armour was etched with leaf veins and a flower crown resting on his brow. Bumblelina he called out, catching the green minibot by surprise. He jumped and spun around, unleashing his stingers and glared.

“What is a lowly peasant doing sneaking up the crowned prince?”

Crowned prince? He had heard of princes in Ratchet’s story books. They were heroes who performed great deeds.

Bumblelina bowed and said, “I am Bumblina and I’m looking for other minibots.” The prince’s mouth plate twitched. “Bumblelina? Sounds about right, you look like a bumbler to me.”

Insulted, Bumblelina shot his stingers at the mech, causing the prince to stumble off his rock and fall into the mud.

“Clearly your sire never taught you any manners.” With a loud huff, Bumblelina stalked off back to the garden.

“Wait!” the mech called after Bumblelina, climbing back to his peds “You can’t do that to me, I’m the prince!”

“I will treat you exactly as you deserve,” he snapped. “You’re not a prince. Princes are kind and help those in need. What you are is no better than a beast!”

The Prince fidgeted nervously, not use to being told off or having to apologize before. He ran after Bumbelina and said “I-I’m sorry. My name is Wasp, prince of the Minibot Kingdom.”

Minibot Kingdom?

Bumblelina stopping in his tracks. So there were more minibots.

“I’ve never seen you before though,” Wasp mused, taking in Bumblelina’s plain armour, as if a giant had made it for him.

“That’s because I live over the garden wall”

“The Autobot garden?” Wasp gasped, frantically looking around for any giant mechs. “Are you being held captive? Did you escape?”

Escape?

“No, the Autobot who lives here is my sire.”

Wasp’s optics bulged and he blinked in disbelieve, causing Bumblelina to laugh.

Bumblelina introduced himself and the two spent the night together, talking about their respective worlds. The sun was rising though and Wasp had to return before the King and Queen noticed his disappearance. He promised to return and bring Bumblelina to his Kingdom, once Bumblelina explained everything to Ratchet. Wasp bid him goodbye, even offering a kiss on the servo before disappearing into the undergrowth. Bumblelina’s spark fluttered but just as he was about to return home, something sneaked up behind him and knocked him unconscious.

Bumblina woke up one a metal lily pad, not sure where he was. He was then greeted by a frogbot named Swindle, who thought he would make a wonderful bride for one of his clients. Bumblelina objected to be married off but the businessbot had already made up his mind and promised to return once he found the right buyer.

Unable to swim, Bumblelina was stranded on the lily pad. Scared, he curled up and cried, catching the attention of two swallows, named Jetfire and Jetstorm. “Look brother, it is a minibot in distress!” Said Jetfire.

“Indeed brother, perhaps we be assisting?”

They landed on either on either side of the minibot and Bumblelina awed at the orange and blue swallowbots.

“I don’t suppose you know how I can get home?” he asked glumly.

They looked at each other quizzically.

“And where is this home?” they asked.

“I…I don’t know. I don’t know where I am.” Bumblelina mumbled. “I just want my sire, or to see Wasp again.”

This perked their interests.

“Prince Wasp! We be knowing the Prince of Minibots!” Jetstorm tweeted.

“Yes, if you are friends with the Prince then we will go and get him for you!” The two swallows flew away Bumblelina could only waved them goodbye.

Not long after, Swindle returned for him, having found the perfect bondmate, a rich mole. Bumblelina did not want to meet this molebot, but had no choice as Swindle snapped off the stem of the lily pad, sending Bumblelina drifting down the stream until he hit the riverbank, where a large grey molemech with hard red optics was waiting.

“What did I tell you, Megatron, an actual minibot,” Swindle grinned.

Megatron stared down at Bumblelina with cold optics and the young minibot debated activating his stingers and making a run for it. “He will do,” Megatron nodded.

It was no secret Megatron wished to marry a minibot. They were rare, beautiful and to own one was to levitate one’s own status.

Megatron took Bumblelina to his home, deep underground. Bumblelina did not want to live in the darkness but had no choice as winter was coming and with no way of directing himself home, he had no choice but to live with his new bondmate.

It wasn’t long until the swallowbots told Prince Wasp of what had happened to his minibot, and he went after Swindle, demanding to know the location of Bumblelina. Once he found the molebot, the three went to rescue Bumblelina. When Megatron refused to relinquish his claim over the yellow bot, they fought. Wasp was badly injured, and Bumblelina joined the battle, using his stingers to help Jetfire and Jetstorm defeat Megatron.

Holding Wasp in his arms, Bumblelina declared his love for the minibot and they kissed. The swallowsbot found the garden belonging to ratchet and the medic followed, reuniting with his sparkling, and healed the young bot his sparkling fell in love with.

Bumblelina eventually married the prince and the two lived happily ever after in the Kingdom of the Minibots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry how rushed the ending is guys. Bumblelina was actually a bit longer (with Starscream as a flying beetle, and Blackarachnia as a spider who would have taken on the role of the doormouse), but it was getting way too long, so I had to cut a large majority of it down.  
> I may go back to this short one day and turn it into a actual story, but at the moment I'm farily satsified with it.
> 
> Tomorrow - Swindle x Megatron (Fairy tale)


	6. Swindle x Megatron (Fairy tale)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another fairy tale, this time based on "One Thousand and One Nights" or "Arabian Nights"

Once upon a time there was a lowly energon miner who went by the name of Megatron, who sort to change the cruel fate destiny had dealt him. Seeking the opportunity, he willingly stepped into the fighting arena and walked out as the champion gladiator of the ring. Eventually he gained a following, rose to become a military leader, and Emperor of New Kaon.

Lord Megatron led a great army, and by his side was the members of his inner circle, his loyal lieutenants, who each led faction of his empire. One of those lieutenants was his most trusted soldier, Starscream, second in Command and Chief Air Commander. However, Starscream was greedy and treacherous, plotting to become leader himself. He almost succeeded as well, planting a bomb that should have terminated Megatron, but only wounded him.

Megatron knew it was Starscream who had betrayed him and killed the seeker without mercy. No longer trusting anyone, especially those in his inner circle, Lord Megatron executed anyone showing any potential signs of betraying him. His followers, fearing his growing paranoia, now followed him out of fear, and not through loyalty.

One day, a smooth, fast talking trades arm dealer, named Swindle, caught the Lord’s optic. The small mech had a certain appeal about him, confident in his abilities to gain anything Megaton so desired, impressing the Lord greatly, who eventually rewarded the dealer’s service by inviting him into his inner circle.

All was going well for Swindle, until one day when Megatron was nearly assassinated again, this time by armed mechs wielding weaponry belonging to Swindle. The assassins would not reveal the identity of the one who sent them though, and Megatron, still paranoid by all those around him, ordered for Swindle’s immediate execution as well.

Swindle pleaded his case though, explaining that just because he sold the weapons does not mean he had anything to do with the assassination itself. While this granted him some time, Megatron would not would not be persuaded in his decision.

Using his processor, Swindle thought of an ingenious plan to save himself from deactivation that very night. As Megatron came to his cell to collect him, Swindle wished to share a story that reminded him of the Lord before he was killed, and the tale was lost forever. The story of a mighty gladiator who slayed all his enemies and became a long and successful ruler.

Intrigued, Megatron fell silent and listened. Swindle was a master of words and using his vast knowledge of his lord’s past life, dragged out the story of a lowly worker who through hard work and determination, began his long journey to becoming a successful gladiator in the arena.

Megatron was blind to how much time had passed, too engrossed by the hero and Swindle’s wonderful, yet seductive voice. By the time the sun had risen, the story had not finished, and Megatron, wishing to know what happened next, delayed Swindle’s execution by another day.

Swindle sighed in relief, but knew he wasn’t out of the woods just yet, and spent the entire day planning the next chapter. the sun fell far too quickly for his liking, once again Lord Megatron came, dual swords in hand, demanding to know how the story ended before he was beheaded.

One night became ten, ten turned into a hundred, and Swindle continued to tell his story for one thousand nights, adding ingenious plot twist upon ingenious plot twist, unraveling exciting subplots and magical elements. He took inspiration from his surroundings, adding new cast members to the list, and even managing to sneak himself into the tale.

“The Gladiator then met a trader from a far section of the cosmos, who offered him many valuable, yet reasonably prized, items that would serve him well.”

It must have been late, Swindle thought, because he could have sworn the Lord’s optics softened and the corner of his lips twitched ever so slightly.

Megatron would not admit it aloud, but he was enjoying their nights together, eventually moving Swindle out of his cell and into the castle, giving whatever comforts Swindle asked for. Slowly, but eventually, the thought of killing the arms dealer drifted from his processor, and he even stopped bringing his swords to their nightly meetings.

“Continue,” Megatron said on 1001 night, pouring a cube of high grade for the two of them.

Swindle lounged in his chair, wrapping up his most current arc, where the mighty gladiator faced off against the dark bringer, Unicron, and was reborn in new armour under the name, Galvatron, and returned to lay waste to his corrupted second who stole his throne, and finally overpower his mortal enemy who had stood in his way since the very first chapter.

Swindle, too engrossed with his magnum opus, realized too late he had no way of continuing the fable. Nothing after such a well-planned out finale would satisfy his Lord after facing off against a god and finally bringing down the main antagonist of the series. for once in his life, Swindle was at a loss for words.

He could not continue to the story…

So instead, Swindle thought back to the many nights he and Megatron had spent together and did what came naturally when faced with a business deal he did not know the outcome to.

He gambled.

“Then, the gladiator, turned Lord, ruled for many stellar cycles, bring peace and tranquility to his citizens. He was loyal to all the heroic allies who followed him through to the very end and never forgot about them. ” He reached out and placed his servo over the Lord’s hand.

Megatron froze, surprised that this endless tale was finally coming to an end. The fantasy was over and it was time to close the pages.

“And what became of all them?” asked Megatron. “The Cyclops, the triple changer, the spider bot, the shape shifter…the arms trade dealer.”

“I don’t know,” Swindle smirked, bringing the servo to his lips and kissing each one. “Why don’t you tell me?”

A smirk spread across Megatron’s faceplate and the he cupped the short mech’s face.

“In the end,” Megatron whispered. “The Lord found himself falling in love with the mech and never wished for him to leave his side. Ever.”

He pulled him in closer and the two kissed.

Swindle was made Megatron’s consort and the two lived happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow - Bumblebee x Shockwave (spark bond) *sequel to chapter 4 Bumblebee (Amnesia)*


	7. Bumblebee x Shockwave (Spark Bonding)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a sequel to Chapter 4 - Bumblebee (Traitor/Double Agent)  
> Warning: Rape/Dubious consent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, I tend to switch back and forth between headcanons when it comes to Cybertronians having sex. Sometimes I'll go along with the "Transformers have both spikes and valves", or I'll go along with the "They have no sexual organs, so spark merging is the equivalent of sex for them."  
> In this fics case, it's the latter. Hope that clears everything up :)

Bumblebee didn’t know how it came to this. Everything had been going so well for them for once. They saved Detroit, Megatron had been defeated, and the rest of the Decepticons had been captured and hauled into the Stockade. Cybertron even held a parade in their honour, and it had all slipped right through their servos in a matter of cycles.

There had been a prison riot. Megatron and his followers escaped and now Cybertron was in more danger than ever, and as usual, it seemed like Optimus’ team were the only ones capable of taking on the Decepticons. Except, this time, even they were in way over their heads.

“You don’t look very happy to see me, _old pal_.”

Bumblebee’s optics flickered over to where Shockwave was currently hovering over him. Every fibre of his being screamed for him to unleash his stingers put a hole right through that gloating optic, only he couldn’t move any of his limbs!

 _He finally had him_ , thought Shockwave as he gazed down at his captive.

The small yellow mech was currently lying limp on a medical berth, with no restraints to keep from escaping. Instead, Shockwave had forcefully removed Bumblebee’s helmet and wired himself into Bumblebee’s processor, deactivating his primary motor cortex, leaving him unable to move, and completely defenceless.

“I seem to recall, not too long actually, when our roles were reversed,” he taunted, claws tapping against the berth.

Bumblebee could only glare spitefully at that smug voice.

“I thought back to our previous conversation,” he purred, tracing Bumblebee’s faceplate with a single claw. “Then I remembered how much I actually missed our time together. You remember, don’t you Bumblebee, back at boot camp, after I fixed your legs?”

He titled Bumblebee’s chin and internally smiled as those pretty little optics widened in realisation.

He did remember. It had been right after Wasp and Ironhide dismantled Bumblebee legs and threw him into that locker.

“Why do they hate me?” Bumblebee asked as Longarm came to his rescue. The taller mech picking up him and carrying him over to the table.

“Because one of them is a spy who knows you’re after him.” Using his size changing ability, Longarm stretched his arms out and retrieved Bumblebee legs. “Don’t give up Bumblebee.”

Looking back on it, Bumblebee was a fool for ever listening to him, but at the time, he was alone and Longarm had been the only one who seemed to believe in him.

He didn’t mean for what happened next.

At his lowest point, and with Longarm right in front of him, Bumblebee didn’t even think as he reached out and pulled the grey mech close, brushing their lip plates together. Longarm froze under his hold, but Bee couldn’t let go, not yet. He pressed more firmly, trying to coax Longarm into kissing him back, but the bot had gone completely solid.

Just as he was about to pull away and apologize, Longarm broke free from whatever glitch froze his processor and kissed back, wrapping his arms tightly around Bumblebee as he deepened the kiss.

Shockwave didn’t normally let his emotions get the best of him, but as usual, Bumblebee brought out the worst in him. The room heated as they explored each other’s bodies. They didn’t get that far though. Bumblebee was still young and Shockwave would not risk revealing his true identity by going any further. After recomposing themselves, Longarm helped Bumblebee reattached his limbs, and they walked off in different direction after leaving the locker room. Neither one brought up what happened between them again, and after boot camp, the two went their separate ways, knowing the unlikelihood they would ever see each other again.

Yet, primus seemed to favour Shockwave, bringing Bumblebee back into his life time and time again.

“You always did leap before thinking,” Shockwave chuckled as Bumblebee remained motionless, hoping his glare would cause the decepticon to suddenly combust. “You can speak, you know.”

With a single tap on the keyboard Bumblebee regained movement of his mouth.

“If you actually think you can get any info out of me, then I’m sorry, Cyclops, but you got another thing coming!” He struggling, thrashing his helm back and forth. “Oh, and one more thing? You are going to be in so much trouble when my team shows up and rescues me!”

“I think not,” he tut and tapped the keys again. “Now, open your spark chamber.”

The order ran right down to Bumblebee’s core and he was unable to stop his chest plate from opening, unfolding to reveal his spark; his very life force, exposed for Shockwave to poke and prod at.

“Beautiful,” said Shockwave, his optic reflecting the blue angelic light.

He reached in through the opening and folded his claws around the pulsing spark, feeling it quiver as Bumblebee’s breath quickened. All it would take was one flex of his servo he would crush it, just like he promised the bug he would.

“Mine.” He pressed his faceplate to Bumblebee’s forehead, in a mocking gesture of a kiss, before squeezing.

Bumblebee shut his optics tightly, feeling the servo tighten, threatening to break his inner casing. But as quickly as the pain flooded through his sensor, it vanished as the servo released its grip and withdrew from his body. Bumblebee gasped, vents roaring to cool his overheated systems, still feeling the lingering sensation of those claws inside of him.

“W-What?”

“How embarrassing,” Shockwave laughed, petted Bumblebee’s helm affectionately. “To think, after so many nights of dreaming how I would make you pay; make you suffer, make you scream for death. Breaking you until I finally relented and gave you your wish.” he threatened to crush Bumblebee’s helm. “I find out I no longer wish for our game to end.”

To think this worthless, no talented, insect, actually wormed its way under his plating and buried itself within his own beating spark, corrupting him. Shaking his helm, Shockwave pulled the cables from Bumblebee’s processor, releasing him.

Bumblebee wasted no time, leaping off the berth his unleashed his stinger, aiming to kill, but the giant intercepted and quickly pinned him down again.

“Perhaps I should change into something that will make you a bit more…comfortable.” he whispered, shrinking in size as his body transformed and his electronic paintjob turned a familiar shade of grey.

“No,” Bumblebee gasped as soft blue eyes gazed lovingly down on him. “Let go of me!”

“Did you miss me, Bee?” Longarm asked, his voice just as soft and friendly as it had been all those stellar cycles ago. “I missed you.”

“Stop using his voice box!” Bee screamed, firing at anything his stingers could hit. “Stop using his face!”

Bumblebee lost his voice box when those familiar servos pulled him into a possessive hug, and soft lips brushed over his horns.

“What’s the matter, Bumblebee?” he whispered into his audio receptors. “Why are you so upset?”

He didn’t want this. He was prepared for any amount of torture Shockwave would dish out on him, but he could not handle this, this sick perversion of affection.

“Let me make it all better.” Longarm pressed their lips together and Bumblebee was reminded of that night back at boot camp, only this time their roles had been reversed, with him as the one frozen in place.

Longarm teased Bumblebee, running his servo down his back and arms, caressing him in all the right places. Bumblebee forgot about the traitor behind the persona, and kissed back, pretending they were back in the locker room. Longarm’s lip’s trailed down Bumblebee’s form as his fingers continued their exploration, now encouraged by Bumblebee’s moans and eager pleas.

Longarm’s spark chamber snapped opened and Bumblebee gawked at the pulsing light. He then brought them together, chest-to-chest so their cables could connected. Static passed between them and Bumblebee’s processor went blank from the foreign thoughts and emotions flooding his spark that were not his own. Feelings of hatred affect affection, all at once, running through his head.

Memories of Longarm snatching glances at his frame in boot camp, Shockwave staring longingly at Bumblebee over the intercom, as he revealed his true form, and finally, him gazing up at Bumblebee with pride and respect as he stood triumphantly in front of the captured spy.

It was too much for Bumblebee’s processor to take all at once. He overloaded and cried out in pleasure as electricity ran through his circuitry. Not long after he came down from his high and their chest’s separated, Bee slumped forward and drifted offline in Longarm’s protective servos.

Taking a moment to recompose himself, Shockwave transformed back into his real form, holding the precious mech close to him. He laid back on the berth, with Bumblebee curled up over his closed chest plate, petting his lover’s back with a single, delicate claw.

“I’ll never let you go,” he promised, drifting into recharge.

Bumblebee was now as much his, as much as he was now Bumblebee’s. And Shockwave was very protective of the things that belonged to him.


	8. Jazz x Sentinel (Mechpreg)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz x Sentinel Prime mpreg fic (with a bit of my own tweaking to make it fit with the established canon. So there will be no giving birth in this fic XD)

“What are you doing here?!” Sentinel bellowed as he stomped across the office. “You are in no fit shape to be at work!”

Jazz rolled his optics and continued typing on his keyboard. “Would you cool it, SP? I’m not due for carrier leave for another orn at least.”

Sentinel rested a servo on his sparkmate’s shoulder and turned the chair around so they were optic-to-optic.

“That’s beside the point Jazz,” he said. “You were feeling unwell this morning, you should have called in sick.”

“It was just a dizzy spell,” Jazz laughed off. “Sentinel I’m fine. I’m completely stable, the sparkling is perfectly healthy, and you have me doing office work! Other than going offline from boredom, I think I’ll manage.”

Sentinel looked unconvinced and was about to stress the matter further, only to be interrupted by a pair of jets flying into the room and running towards them.

“Morning, Mr Jazz!” Jetfire and Jetstorm cried out, transforming and ducking underneath Sentinel’s arms as they latched themselves on either side of Jazz.

“Hello little one,” Jetfire cooed into Jazz’s chest plate.

“Uncle Jetfire and Jetstorm cannot be waiting to be seeing you,” added Jetstorm.

Jazz laughed and leant back so the twins could talk to the spark that had no way of hearing them, let alone answer back.

“What if spark splits into two?” asked Jetfire excitedly.

“Then we would be twin uncles to twins!” said Jetstorm, jumping enthusiastically on his peds.

“I wouldn’t get too excited, you two,” said Jazz. “A splitting spark is a rare phenomenon.”

“We are one of a kind,” Jetfire laughed.

“Two of a kind,” Jetstorm corrected.

“And if Mr Jazz be having twins then we would be four of a kind!”

“Don’t you two slackers have work you should be doing?!” snapped Sentinel. "The last thing Jazz need the added stress of you two imbeciles!”

The twins scrambled out the room, shouting over their shoulders “Bye Mr Jazz, we look forward to seeing you at protoform shower!”

Jazz waved them off, servo resting over the pulsing spark in his chest compartment.

“I still don’t see why you had to invite those idiots to the shower.” said Sentinel. “Jetfire and Jetstorm?” asked Jazz. “Or Optimus and his team?”

“Both.”

“They’re our friends, Sentinel,” said Jazz. “And I want them here to celebrate with us.”

Sentinel rolled his optics at the mention of friends, but one hard stare from his sparkmate stopped him from making a snide comment.

“I just don’t want anything unexpected to happen.” Sentinel sighed. “And Primus knows any time Optimus is involved, something has to go wrong.”

“Sentinel,” Jazz rose form his chair and cupped his partners face. “Please, for me.”

Sentinel averted his optics but mumbled under his breath, “Fine for you.”

Jazz smiled fondly and pulled Sentinel in for a kiss, which his lover eagerly returned.

~

“Are you ready to pick out your protoform?” asked the medic as he ushered the pair into his office.

“Yes.” Sentinel and Jazz sat down in the two chairs in front of the desk.

“Good,” said the medic as he took his seat as well. “We’ve run an analysis on the sparkling and have compiled a list of all the compatible protoform moulds.”

The medic turned on a holographic screen, projecting the various types of moulds currently on the production line. Jazz awed at all the shapes and sizes of the protoforms, and the special modifications.

“Does it matter which one we pick?” Sentinel asked, dragging his finger down one of the many screens so he could read the article.

“As long as the spark accepts the metal, there are no major concerns,” he said. “Though most creators prefer their sparkling share the same mould as one of themselves.”

“Imagine a little sparkling in your armour?” Jazz mused, pulling out a mould that looked like exactly like Sentinel.

Sentinel grinned as he read the article, imagining their newly formed sparkling with his body and special mods.

“And the gender?” Jazz asked.

“Of course the ratio between male and female is 2:1, so while it is still possible for the spark to develop into a femme, the chances are still slim,” he explained. “Science is still no step closer to figuring out as to why that happens, it just does.”

Jazz tried not to look too disappointed by the news, but the prospect of a femme had crossed his mind on more than one occasion. Sentinel squeezes his servo and Jazz smiled. It didn’t matter what their child’s gender was, all that mattered was that they were having one and it would be loved regardless.

They didn’t make a final decision that day. Having narrowed their choices down to five, the two went home and discussed the matter further. They made it all the way back to the apartment, where they were having a disagreement over whether to have a two-wheeler or not, when Sentinel opened the door and they were blinded by bright lights and explosions.

“Surprise!” Everyone cheered. “Happy protoform shower!”

Jazz gasped and collapsed against Sentinel, who glared at the intruders.

Standing in the middle of their living room was Jetfire and Jetstorm, Optimus, Bulkhead, Bumblebee, Sari, Ratchet and Arcee, holding up colour banners and party poppers.

“What is wrong with you lot?!” Sentinel screamed, as he helped Jazz sit on the sofa. “He’s a carrier for spark’s sake!”

“SP I’m fine,” Jazz breathed deeply, willing the spark to settle down again.

“We’re sorry, Jazz,” Optimus sighed heavily as he sent a side glare to younger bots. “We didn’t mean to surprise you like that.”

“It’s cool, big O,” Jazz laughed. “This is the most excitement I’ve had in solar cycles.”

“And it will be your last solar cycle if that happens again.” He should have never agreed to this ridiculous shower. And how did these morons get into their apartment in the first place?!

He didn’t have time to ask as everyone settled around Jazz, offering congratulations, colourfully wrapped gifts, trays of energon cubes, and asking to see the sparkling, which Jazz happily obliged, opening his spark chamber for these idiots to gawk at.

This was gonna be a long night…

~

“Don’t feel pressured,” said the medic. “All first time carriers find it hard to make the transition.”

Jazz stood rigid as he faced his tiny protoform. An empty grey shell with its spark chamber open, waiting for its new host. He didn’t know why he was hesitating. The moment he transferred the spark offer, they’d have their creation. Just one quick transition and the protoform would come online.

Jazz reluctantly opened his chest compartment and stared down at the spark. It was fully grown, orbiting independently from his own spark, waiting to burst and out find a new home to accommodate for its new size.

But he wasn’t ready to let it go.

Jazz placed his servos protectively over the spark. He and Sentinel created this pulsing spark, this tiny life force that he vowed to protect. It had grown from his own spark and he wasn’t ready to give it up. What if they were doing this too soon? What if it wasn’t fully developed yet? What if something went wrong the moment it was separated from Jazz? What if the protoform rejected it?

Jazz flinched when a strong servos wrapped around him. He turned and stared at Sentinel, who was gazing at him with love and understanding.

“You can do this,” he whispered.

Jazz nodded and took a deep breath. His glass case unfolded and the tiny spark drifting out, feeling the magnetic pull of the empty spark chamber. Jazz almost reached out to stop it, but Sentinel held his servos tightly as it slotted into its new home.

The chamber slammed shut and static ran through the grey shell. The solid metal liquefied and took on a new shape, limbs extending, body changing to adapt to its new blue prints. The grey faded as white and blue blossomed down its finish, and glassy optics flickered online, bright blue orbs staring up at Jazz and Sentinel.

“He’s perfect,” Sentinel whispered into Jazz audio receptor.

Jazz reached out and cupped the small faceplate.

Yes, he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter - Jetfire and Jetstorm (Circus)


	9. Jetfire & Jetstorm (Circus)

They loved the circus, ever since their creators first took them to a see a live performance in Iacon many stellar cycles ago. It was love at first sight, something new and exciting that wasn’t part of their everyday, calculated and repetitive world. They stayed up well into the morning, vowing to someday run away and join the circus, traveling from planet to planet, performing before a giant crowd full of spectators who would awe and marvel at their artistic feats.

Life got in the way though. The twins, simply known as Fire and Storm were manufactured to join the Autobot boot camp once they came of age and serve their planet just like every other cog in the grand machine.

The solar cycle before they were meant to leave home, a ship docked in Iacon and there was an explosion of noise as colourful confetti was thrown and colourful mechs and femmes danced through the streets, handing out fliers for Ultra Magnus’ traveling Supreme circus.

Jet and Storm decided to watch a show, one last night on the town before they were sent off to boot camp. To get their childhood dream out of their systems and move on.

It didn’t quite turn out that way…

The tent was packed. Fire and Storm squeezed into their seats and waited eagerly for the show to begin. A single spotlight shined down on the ringmaster, Ultra Magnus, a bot dressed in white and blue armour. He stood in the centre of the stage and said. “Femmes, mechs and bots of all ages.”

The ringmaster’s words were quiet yet stern, grabbing the attention of Jet and Fire in the very back row. “I welcome you to the Supreme travelling circus. Tonight you will join us as I reveal the stories of these brave and noble performers, who will dazzle you with their strength, grace and passion.”

The lights flared and the twins awed as actors suspended on ribbons fell from the sky, colourful clown bots danced into the ring, and acrobatics cartwheeled through flaming hoops.

In that instant the twins knew they never had any intention of returning home after tonight.

They cheered as the acrobatic fighters spared in perfect unison. They gasped in terror as the animal tamer commanded giant organic monsters. They fell silent as the ninjas swung on ropes and threw their weapons with precise precision. They awed at the musician who mislead them with misdirection and dazzle. They laughed at the clownbots who ran around on stage in-between shows, juggling on unicycles, and getting into mock fights.

The night came to a close too soon for their liking.

The lights dimmed as Ultra Magnus walked back onto the stage, offering one last praise to all his performers before they all bowed out and disappeared in one last stunning encore. The crowd rose with applause, none cheering louder than Fire and Storm.

Everyone shuffled to the exits, retreating back into the dullness of their everyday lives, now that they had their fill of the strange and unknown. Fire and Storm lingered though, waiting until the audience left and the performers finished putting their props and pieces away. They then approached a group of singing performers, sitting in a circle around a holographic light as they drank cubes of high-grade.

They walked over to two of the clownbotss, one a giant green mech, the other a tiny yellow one.

“Excusing us,” Fire coughed.

“But we wish to speak with Ringmaster,” added Storm.

The rest of the performers were oblivious to their presence as the two clowns turned to address them.

“Let me guess,” the small one grinned. “Run-aways?”

“How you be guessing?” they asked.

“We get at least one or two after every show,” the bulbous green one laughed as he finished his cube. “Young bots either want an autograph or to join our family.”

“And since you’re talking to us instead of the main stars, that means you want to want join,” said small yellow.

“Yes,” they both nodded. “We wish to speak to bot in charge.”

The two clownbots looked at each other and after a brief moment of silence they shrugged in defeat. “You would need to talk to Ultra Magnus” said big green. “He’s the ringmaster. We get staff coming and going all the time, so he might be interested in a spare set of servos.”

“Just be warned though,” said small yellow. “He’s hard to impress, so you’ll have to convince him you’re made for the circus life.”

“How do we go about doing that?” asked Fire.

“He’ll just know,” small yellow shrugged. “It’s a circus thing, you’re either made for it or you’re not. You’ll find out for yourself once you talk to him.”

The clownbots showed them which ship held Ultra Magnus’ office. They were escorted aboard by a femme named Arcee, who ran the technical side of the circus, organizing which acts go in which order, getting to planets ahead of time to set up the stage, and dealing with the costs and profit.

She introduced them to Ultra Magnus, who stared down at the twins with disinterest and asked “Why is it you wish to work for my circus?”

“We have been wanting to join circus since we were first brought on line!” said Fire enthusiastically.

“Yes, ever since we first saw show we wanted nothing more than to be part of one!”

Ultra Magnus quickly grew bored and his gaze drifted over to Arcee who shook her head in agreement.

“Arcee will show you out,” he said, rising from his desk.

“No!” they exclaimed. “Wait, please hear us out.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Ultra Magnus interrupted. “You were not forged for this type of life. We having nothing more to discuss.”

“You’re wrong!” shouted Storm. “We were not forged to be dull working bots on a planet that never changes.”

“Yes,” said Fire. “We have never belonged in Iacon or Cybertron. Ever since we were forged from a split spark we have always been different from the others, outcasts by our own production line.”

“Please, at least give us the chance to prove ourselves. If you still feel the same then we will leave circus and never ask again.”

“We promise to work hard, sir!”

They held their breaths as Ultra Magnus stared down at them with an unreadable expression, eventually sitting back down and holding his servo out for Arcee, who handed him two datapads.

“Then sign here.”

The two grinned ecstatically and signed and signed the contracts, officially becoming part of the circus.

Fire and Storm lived their dream of traveling to new worlds, visiting the Cybertronian colonies and meeting new bots. Arcee worked them hard though, having them hand out fliers, selling merchandise, taking care of props and getting the tents ready for the main show. At first the other performers were distant to them, making bets that they wouldn’t last a single vorn. The twins ignored them, and after they befriended the two clownbots, Bulkhead and Bumblebee, the other performers slowly came around. After a stellar cycle of working for the circus, they eventually became part of the family.

They also had been secretly working on their own act during that time.

“Wish me luck tonight boys,” Elita-1 winked as walked out of the dressing room, now wearing her spider themed armour and purple electric paint job.

“Break a leg Elita!” said Fire.

“Or eight!” laughed Storm.

Elita-1 waved and disappeared behind the curtain, checking on her giant spiders one last time before Optimus and Sentinel wrapped up their fencing routine in front of the cheering crowd.

“We need convince Ultra Magnus into letting us perform,” said Fire.

“But to perform we need a gimmick.” Mused Storm.

“And a theme,” added Fire.

They glanced over at the colourfully dressed performers who were getting in some last minute practice before curtain call. Yoketron, one of the instructors, was helping Prowl and Jazz perfect his throwing star and acrobatic acts. Brawn, the tiny strongman was warming up by lifting weight, while Hotshot practice his fire-eating and dancing. Even the junkbot, Wreck-Gar was perfecting his magic act, and searching for his mechanical rabbit who was no longer in his chest compartment.

“It seems everyone has an act that was entirely their own, with a unique story to get the audience invested,” said Storm

“Rival gladiators, cyber-ninjas, organic mutations? What could our tale be brother?” asked Fire, sitting crossed legged on the floor, processor running a mile a minute. “It needs to be bold, flashy, yet different.”

“It needs to reflect our act,” Storm added thoughtfully. “Maybe if we could take advantage of the fact we are twins?”

“But how?” Storm paced irritably as Fire continued to sit and wrack his processor for answers.

Inspiration struck them both at the same time.

“Are you thinking what I am thinking brother?”

“I think I am brother.”

It took nearly another stellar cycle, but eventually the twins got their wish.  
“Femmes, mechs and bots of all ages. Our next act is a truly a tale to behold! Two bots, forged from a single spark, split before they were even forged.”

As Ultra Magnus talked, Fire looked down from the balancing board he was currently standing on. He looked over at his brother, on the other side of the tent, balanced on his own board.

“Weak with only half a spark in their chest compartments, they agreed to be part of an Autobot experiment to give them new, stronger bodies, with an unfortunate side effect that altered their genetic code!”

Storm risked a glance downwards, his vent revving at the several hundred foot drop below. His optics glanced over to the small specks by the curtain, who were no doubt Ratchet and Red alert, the two medics, the former of which who had his electro magnets on standby should their very first act fail.

“Presenting our trapeze act, the flying jetwins, Jetfire and Jetstorm!”

The spotlight shined on them, their newly painted blue and orange armour sparkling. The adrenaline pounding through their systems drowned out the cheers and applause below.

Jetfire gripped the metal bar in his hand, Jetstorm miming his actions. With one last breath, Jetfire leant forward and was swept into the air by the bar in his servos. Jetstorm swung towards him and threw his body, released his grip on the bar and fell. Jetfire launched off the trapeze and offered his servo.

Their fingers linked.

The audience cheered.

And they flew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter - Blackarachnia, Blitzwing, Lugnut and Shockwave (Humanformers)


	10. Blackarachnia, Lugnut, Blitzwing & Shockwave (Humanformers)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blackarachnia, Lugnut, Blitzwing & Shockwave (Humanformers)

It was early in the evening, the sun was just going down and a young woman walked into her office, sat down at the computer, put on her headset, and logged in to her favourite MMORPG, _The Fight for Cybertron_. She entered the username, _Blackarachnia_ , and her character appeared on screen, dressed in purple and gold armour, and standing at the _Ground Bridge Network_ , where hundreds of other avatars were running to and from missions.

Her chat room immediately opened, listing three other usernames on her friends list; Lugnut, Blitzwing and Shockwave.

“Hey, Blackarachnia,” said Lugnut, his bulky green and purple avatar running towards her.

“How are my favourite boys doing today?” she asked as two other avatars appeared in front of her.

“Fine,” said Shockwave, a player from England. “However, I have to be up early for a meeting tomorrow, so I may have to disappear if the campaign goes on for too long.”

“Agreed,” said Blitzwing, a player with a thick German accent. “You lot might enjoy staying up until midnight, but for some of us that equates to five in the morning!”

Blackarachnia smiled. Living in different countries did make it hard to find the perfect hours to start a campaign, but it was worth it when they synced up. The six of them, Blackarachnia, Lugnut, Blitzwing, Shockwave, Megatron and Starscream had never met in real life. They didn’t know each others real names. They didn’t share any similar interests or backgrounds, but there was one thing they could agree on, they loved online role playing.

The six of them all met at random on a different MMORPG server and they instantly clicked. Years later, the six were still friends, though the games may have changed, the group always made time every week to run a campaign. Right now their most current obsession was playing _The Fight for Cybertron_ , a sci-fi adventure game about alien transforming robots who were fighting for dominance over their home planet. With the option of being an Autobot, Decepticon or neutral, the six instantly decided it would be more fun to play the role of the Decepticons, the dark faction that was trying to overthrow the defending Autobots.

“By the way where’s Megatron and Starscream?” she asked, there username still inactive on her friends list.

“They should be online shortly,” said Shockwave. “Megatron messaged me in advance that he might be late getting home from work, but I’m not sure what’s keeping Starscream.”

“How’s Starscream even going to play now that his character is dead?” Blitzwing asked. “He’ll have to start all over again, unless he has another character in reserve?”

“I overheard him talking to Megatron a few weeks back about his character, I think he actually planned on getting himself killed from the very beginning.” They could practically feel Lugnut rolling his eyes. “He’s clearly planning something flashy to impress us. I wouldn’t be surprised if he exploited a patch in the gaming system.”

“Well, in that case this campaign should be a lot of fun.”

“Also, as long as we’re waiting around for those two; Blitzwing would you mind toning down the weird character quirks for this session?” Shockwave groaned from his end of the connection.

“What’s wrong with playing a character with multiple personalities?” Blitzwing huffed. “If I’m going to have a character that switches masks every time he uses fire or ice type weapons, then I want to add a bit of originality to it.”

“You can still tone it down a tad.”

“Quiet little man before I pummel you into scrap metal!” Blitzwing shouted, for the sole purpose of winding Shockwave up, before reverting back to his normal voice. “Besides, at least I don’t write a novel worth of content for my characters.”

“There’s nothing wrong with giving your character a back story,” Blackarachnia smirked as she went through her weapon’s list, using the time to decide what would be best for this particular mission they were going on.

“But an ex-autobot scientist who was genetically altered by alien spiders and made an outcast by her own faction?”

“Hey, I won that limited edition armour set fair and square!” she laughed. “So don’t get all jealous that you missed out on that campaign. I have every right to show it off as I see fit.”

Blackarachnia admired her character’s purple and gold organic armour. She won it in competition a few weeks back when the site was celebrating its newest expansion that allowed the players access to a new map, visiting new planets and fighting large organic monsters, harvesting their parts to craft new weapons and items. She hoarded as many enemies as she could until she had unlocked the full armour.

“Besides, at least I don’t meet my dates in game rooms.” She teased.

“Leave Strika out of this,” Lugnut growled warningly, very defensive of his fiancé. “By the way, she and her group invited us to play a round of capture the flag if we’re up for it.”

“Sweet, I’ll enjoying crushing Cyclonus and Blackout,” Blitzwing let out his trademark laugh, so high pitched it caused Shockwave to cringe on the other end.

Just then a message icon appeared in corner of each of their computer screens, showing the usernames, Megatron and Starscream. Two avatars stepped out of the ground bridge, one was a giant in grey and red armour, the other a sleek jet type.

“Apologies, are we all ready?” asked Megatron as he joined the private chat.

“I hope you’re ready to admit I’m more suited to lead this group than you are once you witness first-hand how I win this match,” Starscream gloated in his usual annoying fashion.

“Try not to back stab anyone in the back today, alright?” Megatron teased in return.

“You accidentally hit someone with friendly fire, _one time_ and suddenly no one _ever_ forgets it,” Starscream mumbled under his breath.

“Boys, behave,” teased Blackarachnia. “Now let’s get this game started! Optimus is in the other room, online with his team and I need to let out some much needed steam.”

“You two seriously need to find alternative methods of getting over your domestic disputes,” Shockwave drolled.

“It works for us,” she shrugged. “We fight, we storm off into our rooms, we let out our frustration by killing each other in horrific ways in a safe environment, and then we make up.”

“In that case, let’s gun down some Autobot scum!” Starscream shouted as he transformed and flew to one of the open space bridges. “The Omega Sentinels have been added to the Autobot line-up and I want to be the first to take one down.”

“Wait! Starscream you still haven’t explained how your character even here, you died?!” Blitzwing called after as he too transformed and followed him.

They could practically feel Starscream grinning through the connection. “That would be ruining the surprise though.”

“Why do we let him play with us,” Megatron groaned.

“Because he’s the only one who picked the seeker frame, which we’ll need for this particular round” Shockwave sighed. “Shall we?”

Megatron and Lugnut transformed into their aerial forms and flew into the open space bridge, with Shockwave and Blackarachnia following in their ground forms. Once the last member entered the battlefield, the Decepticon battle cry rang through their headsets, signalling the beginning of the match.

“Decepticons transforms and rise up!”


	11. Prowl (Zombies)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nearly a year ago the planet Cybertron was plagued by a deadly virus, genetically altered space barnacles that infected their hosts upon contact and slowly took over their bodies. Prowl has been alone for less than a year now, traveling from city to city, trying to stay alive.

Less than a year ago there had been an infestation of space barnacles on the planet Cybertron. It struck Iacon first, the citizens suddenly falling ill to an organic virus that had no known cure. The city had to be quarantined but it spread like wild fire. The infected slowly lost their minds as the space barnacles devoured more of their bodies, using them as their own, like a parasite. Within a few weeks most of the planet had been infected, and those who weren’t, we’re fighting to stay alive.

Prowl had been on the move none stop for the last few days now. He had been travelling from deserted city to deserted city, scavenging for supplies and a safe place to recharge for the night. Instead he found hordes of zombies on every corner.

“This is getting tedious,” Prowl growled as he jumped from one wall to the other, bypassing the hoard of the undead below him and summersaulting safely on the other side.

The creatures groaned as they sluggishly limped from street to street at random, but the ninja bot manoeuvred without detection, navigating his way through the labyrinth like city. He hissed whenever he had dodge another hoard, only to turn right at the next corner and run into another wall of reanimated Cybertronians. This city was packed with them!

Spotting shelter in what looked like the remains of an old shopping centre, Prowl wasted no time getting inside. If he acted smart he could use the building to his advantage and take what little supplies he could carry.

Big mistake.

The moment he transformed and stepped into the shopping complex, the trap was sprung. Through the darkness he could make out the low emitting optics, surrounding him on all sides. He had just stumbled into a barnacle nest.

Prowl immediately spun around but back treaded when more zombies stumbled out from their hiding places, putting themselves between him and exit. They moved in closer and Prowl rotated, trying to find an alternative route. He could stay and force his way out, risk touching at least one infected, or run further into the nest and find an alternative exit.

He was not liking his odds.

Unleashing his shurikens, Prowl readied his jetpack and was prepared to fight his way through the hive like mind as they moved in closer, servos reaching for his spark chamber.

“Coming through!” Spinning around, the ninja spotted a giant green mech hurtling towards them, crashing through the barrier and into one of the support structures, bringing it down on the zombie hoard.

“Hang on!” An arm then grabbed him around the wait and he was hurled into the air, in the arms of a blue and red mech with a grappling hook.

“What are you doing?!” he hissed as he was flung of harm’s way. He didn’t need help!

“Kid, electromagnetic pulse!” Light blinded his visor as static ran through his circuitry. The remaining zombies below them had stopped in their tracks and slumped over, deactivated.

“Quickly, we know another way out,” said the red and blue mech as he lowered him to the ground.

“I had everything under control,” he snapped back, rudely pushing the taller mech aside and folding away his shurikens.

“Well we weren’t going to risk it, now follow me.” The bot ordered and with a motion of his hand the rest of his team followed.

Prowl distrusted other bots, in these dangerous time they would sooner throw you under the bus if it meant granting them just one more minute left to live. As it stood though, he was new to the city and had yet to properly scout out the area, he might as well take advantage of the situation.

“Very well,” he murmured, transforming into vehicle mode and following the group outside through a side exit and out into the streets. They drove in silence for a long time until they wheeled up to what looked like an abandoned assembly factory.

The gates opened for them and Prowl reluctantly entered, cautious the moment the gates closed behind him and he was now trapped inside with four bots he didn’t know. They all transformed and Prowl properly looked them over. It was clear they were a bunch of misfits with nothing in common, all with different ages and backgrounds. No doubt they bumped into each by chance during the crisis and formed a team. Safety in numbers and all that.

“Relax, you’re save,” he said, the red and blue mech, no doubt the leader of this ragtag of bots. “My name is Optimus Prime, this is Ratchet, Bumblebee and Bulkhead.”

The younger mechs wave excitedly at Prowl as if he was the first new person they had seen in a long time, while the oldest glared at him with the same distrust Prowl was giving them.

“And what’s your name?”

Prowl turned his attention back to Optimus and said “My designation is of no importance to you. I won’t be staying long.” They seem offended but he does not care. Glancing around the abandoned assembly line, he takes note of the small pile energon cubes and small personal possessions littered about. “How long have you all been here?”

The four shifted uncomfortably.

“Why don’t you sit down?” Optimus suggests, directing everyone to what Prowl could only assume was their living quarters. The two younger bots happily sat cross legged on the floor, the older mech sat on one end of the sofa and Optimus, who went to collect five energon cubes, motioned for Prowl to take the spare seat next to Ratchet. Prowl remained standing.

They recharged together as Optimus told the story. It wasn’t anything new, they had all been there when the virus first hit, when their friends and loved ones started to turn and attack them. Optimus watched as his two best friends were taken from him, and later bumped into Ratchet, who had been travelling with an injured femme, but they were forced to put her out of her misery when it became clear she was infected. They later stumbled across Bumblebee and Bulkhead, who found the factory and got the security system back online. Since then they had been together for just under a year, working as a team to map out the city for zombie nests and energon deposits.

“Have you tried leaving?” Prowl eventually asked.

“And go where?” Ratchet snorted. “In case you haven’t notice there’s nowhere to run.”

“Yes there is,” he said firmly. “Off world.”

The four looked at him like he was insane. Cybertron had been in lockdown ever since the virus went global. An electrical field surrounded the atmosphere, prevented any transformer, infected or not, escaping the planet.

“Are you nuts?” Bumblebee gawked. “They won’t risk letting a single bot spreading the disease on one of those moon colonies.”

“Maybe not,” Prowl pulled out a radio from his sub compartment. “I have been listening to the global announcements. Every few weeks Autobot ships have docking in specific locations, taking in any who scans negative as a virus carrier. If we can get to a station at the set time we can get off world.”

The four looked uncertain.

“You’ll get yourself killed going back out there again,” said Ratchet.

“It’s better than boarding myself up in here waiting to run out of energon, or worse waiting for the power to run out.”

A heavy silence hung over them as they finished their cubes and the subject was not brought up again for the rest of the night. Bumblebee and Bulkhead practically followed Prowl everywhere, wanting to hear about his adventures and trying to get him to play some old video games they managed to salvage. They were oddly charming in their own, annoying way. Ratchet eventually warmed up to him, now that he had someone a bit older and level headed to talk to. He even offered to check Prowl over and fix any minor damages he might be having.

Prowl was later shown to a room where he was allowed to recharge for the night, and it was quite refreshing to lay on an actual berth after being on the move for so many months. However, he couldn’t shut down. He didn’t believe the four bots would harm him, but he wouldn’t risk letting his defences down. Getting up he wondered around the factory, eventually finding a set of stairs that led up to the roof, where he spotted Optimus sitting on the ledge, staring up at the sky.

Hearing the sound of the door opening, Optimus turned his head and smiled politely when he spotted the cycle bot. “Couldn’t sleep either?”

“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he said.

Optimus shrugged and motioned for Prowl to sit beside him. The ninja paused for a long moment but eventually coming closer, drowning out the moans of lone zombies wondering the streets as he sat down next to Optimus and looked up at the night sky, which was once littered with thousands of stars, now blocked out by the golden electric field keeping them here.

“You all act like a family,” Prowl murmured. It had been so long since he had interacted with other bots, especially friendly ones.

“We’re all we have left of our old lives.” Optimus glanced over at Prowl. “They like you. You could be a part of our family as well.”

Prowl shook his helm, as tempting as it was he couldn’t allow himself to stay longer than necessary.

“While I thank you for your hospitality, I’m leaving at sunrise.” He turned to Optimus. “Although, I would welcome the company if you wished to join me.”

Optimus smiled sadly. “I won’t go anywhere without my team, if even one of them decides to stay then I’ll stay behind as well.”

Prowl sighed and rose to his feet. “Then I guess we’ll see what tomorrow brings us.”

“Do you truly believe there’s something out there?” Optimus called after him.

“I don’t know,” Prowl admitted, turning to face Optimus one last time. “But I have to believe, otherwise, what’s the point?”

He headed back inside, his mind set on the task ahead of him, but in his spark he was secretly hoping by tomorrow morning he wouldn’t be walking out those front doors alone.

~End~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Prompt: Bumblebee (Traitor)


End file.
